


let me put on a show

by hilaryfaye



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub, Ill-Advised Threesomes, Jealousy, Loud Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilaryfaye/pseuds/hilaryfaye
Summary: He recognizes something in Rodimus’ posture, in the way he half-turns to Megatron to speak to him, recognizes the way they move around each other—recognizes that it used to be him, standing where Rodimus is standing.“Peace” changes things in the most unexpected ways.





	

Rodimus has been simmering with poorly concealed jealousy for three solid days. When asked, he denies that it’s anything of the sort, and blames his bout of sulking (which he also denies is sulking) on everything from poor recharge to the circumstances that have briefly called them back to Cybertron. He behaves especially poorly when called upon to answer a transmission from Starscream, though Megatron doubts that anyone but him notices the difference.

The only change that anyone else on the crew seems to have noticed is that, for the last three days, Rodimus has stopped speaking to Megatron, notable only because it seemed to them like he had finally stopped pouting about Megatron being there at all. Whatever conclusions they’ve drawn about this sudden turn in Rodimus’ attitude, no one shares them with Megatron, which suits him just fine.

He knows exactly why Rodimus is unhappy with him, and it has everything to do with the new “leader of Cybertron,” who is somehow still managing to cause trouble for Megatron without either being present or aware that he’s causing trouble. A remarkable feat, even for Starscream.

Passing Megatron in the hall, Rodimus looks pointedly away, abruptly finding something to say to a bot that Megatron is fairly certain Rodimus has never spoken to before. Megatron’s not even sure that it’s a member of their crew, if he’s being completely honest.

Not for the first time Megatron reminds himself that this is entirely his own fault, for allowing what started as “a single event they would never speak of again” to become a habit, every time a last time that was never actually the last time. He had reasoned with himself that it was the best way to manage the tension between them, that blowing off a little steam wasn’t going to hurt things.

Reasonable enough when Rodimus was happy with their little meetings behind closed doors at odd hours when no one would bother them or notice their absence, and the single biggest blunder he’d ever made when Rodimus _wasn’t._

The ludicrous thing was that the problem had started with a song.

It wasn’t Rodimus’ usual choice of music, not nearly obnoxious or loud enough to be the sort of thing Rodimus liked. He’d been surprised to hear it, the last time Rodimus had “visited” him in his habsuite. The song had a sort of dreamy, seductive tone that was frustratingly familiar but that Megatron couldn’t identify.

He had tried to put aside the nagging familiarity of the music, but something about it continued to distract him, until a word or a melody clicked with a memory and—

_Starscream._ That’s where he’d heard it before.

He only knew he’d said Starscream’s name aloud by the way Rodimus froze, and shortly thereafter forcibly ejected Megatron from his own berth, descending rapidly into a total meltdown that could not and would not be calmed by Megatron’s insistence that he had only been trying to identify why the music was so familiar.

“I can’t believe you would be thinking about _Starscream—”_

“I _wasn’t._ Even if I had been, why does it matter?”

Rodimus sputtered over his answer. “Because—because we’re—”

“We’re what?” They’d never named this, never talked about what it was, because it made it easier to believe that it wasn’t anything.

Obviously it was something to Rodimus, but just what exactly, he never got around to saying.  

Megatron had only narrowly avoided being evicted from his own habsuite, and Rodimus had stormed off and not spoken to him since.

All of that to say that the last thing Megatron wants to do as Rodimus tries to ignore him is turn around and call his name. Rodimus keeps going, though Megatron knows damn well that he heard. “Rodimus!”

He stops, but he doesn’t turn his head. “What is it?”

“I— _we_ have received an invitation.” He has it in his hands, courtesy of Rattrap, who was waiting for him. Strictly speaking the invitation only says “the captain of the Lost Light,” but that’s good enough.

Rodimus looks at him with evident suspicion, but he comes over to look at the invitation. “From who—?” He stops, seeing Starscream’s name. Or rather, Starscream’s name and the ridiculously long title that now accompanies it. “I’m not going.”

“I can certainly meet him alone,” Megatron replies. “But I thought I’d extend the courtesy of offering my co-captain the opportunity to come along.” This kind of ploy feels like a low move, and Megatron takes no joy from it, but spending any time alone with Starscream will only make this situation with Rodimus worse, and between the two of them, Megatron would rather keep the one he has to deal with every day happy.

Or if not happy, then at least he doesn’t want to give him another excuse to sulk.

He isn’t particularly looking forward to seeing Starscream again, given the circumstances of the last time they saw each other. He has half a mind to just send Rodimus and stay out of it entirely, but then he thinks about the likelihood that Rodimus would try to engage Starscream in a fight, and they would both find a way to blame _him_ for it.

Rodimus hesitates at the suggestion of a solo meeting.

“…I suppose I could… make the time.” He manages to recover a façade of confidence, attempting to make it clear that he only changed his mind because he wanted to, not for any other reason. “After all, there are two captains. Can’t let him forget that.”

“No,” Megatron agrees. “Of course not.”

#

Rod is _not_ jealous. Being jealous would mean being jealous of Starscream, and that is not something he is.

He has a right to be upset, no one wants to be in the middle of getting one of the best frags of their life only to hear someone else’s name. Not when it’s the—well. Rod doesn’t actually know what number they’re at. He stopped counting somewhere around the tenth or twelfth time.

Especially not the name of the other person’s ex. That just stings.

But it’s _not_ jealousy, and he’s not going along with Megatron just because the thought of him being alone with Starscream makes Rod want to shoot something, because that’s definitely not a thing that he feels.

He’s going because—well, it’s his right. He’s captain of the ship, too. He was captain _before_ Megatron, so really, the invitation should be for him. Not that he would go, if it was. He really doesn’t want to see Starscream.

Who knows what kind of trouble could happen if Starscream is left alone with Megatron. It’d be flat out stupid to let that happen, irresponsible even—so really, Rod’s going to supervise.

Yeah, supervise. That sounds good.

#

In an astonishingly obnoxious twist of fate, Starscream finds he has a perfect view of the Lost Light as it docks. The circumstances that gave rise to the ship’s return are not entirely clear to him, perhaps because when he had heard the news he had promptly found himself somewhere between panic and rage, which wasn’t a mindset conducive to listening.

This whole business with the Lost Light was supposed to ensure that Megatron was no longer a problem, what does he think he’s doing _coming back?_

Starscream is given to take it personally.

He sent Rattrap off with an invitation about three minutes prior. It’s not that he, personally, has any desire at all the see Megatron—far from it—but he’s hardly about to let his only chance at controlling this situation slip by. Much as he would prefer it, Starscream knows he’ll likely have to see Megatron at some point, and he intends to do it on his own terms.

For once, he’s going to make Megatron come to him.

The irritating thing is that he has no distractions until then. He paces, and he waits, watching the city below, scanning the crowds for Megatron, and annoyed with himself for looking.

Part of him thinks he shouldn’t meet Megatron alone, that at the very least he should have—oh, Windblade would be useless, but maybe Wheeljack, at the very least—some kind of audience, to keep things under control. Asking that, though, would mean admitting that he’s still afraid of Megatron, and that isn’t part of this game. If, as certain Autobots who are named Rodimus claimed in their most recent transmission, Megatron really has changed, then he’s unlikely to ruin whatever he’s made for himself just for the sake of making a point to Starscream.

And if not, Optimus Prime isn’t around to stop him from doing whatever’s necessary to handle the situation.

It’s a risk, but a calculated one. Rodimus is hardly the type of bot to speak on Megatron’s behalf without it having been earned, as discomfiting a thought as that is to Starscream.

In any case, he’s sent a security detail of Badgeless to bring Megatron to him. “To ensure your safety,” the invitation said, “the streets are ever unpredictable,” but of course both of them know that it’s an expression of power, an impossible to ignore statement that they are squarely in Starscream’s territory now.

Megatron would have done the same to him.

Finally, he does see him. He would know that outline anywhere, half the time when he turns off his optics to recharge he sees it, like the shape of Megatron is burned into his sight forever.

Megatron’s presence is so dominating that it takes Starscream another moment to realize that he isn’t alone. 

Rodimus is there, a thin waif of a bot next to Megatron, and Starscream feels the realization like a knife to the gut. He recognizes something in Rodimus’ posture, in the way he half-turns to Megatron to speak to him, recognizes the way they move around each other—recognizes that it used to be him, standing where Rodimus is standing.

Starscream presses an arm against the window, optics narrowing.

He makes a note to find out how well-known their relationship is. Rodimus doesn’t strike him as the discreet kind, but nor did he ever really strike Starscream as someone that Megatron would be interested in, let alone someone who might return the interest, so it may be past time to reassess what he knows about the Autobot.

“Peace” changes things in the most unexpected ways.

Much to his annoyance, Rodimus is still there when Megatron arrives, evidently having decided not to come alone. Starscream wouldn’t have picked _Rodimus_ as a support, but he supposes there can’t be many who would agree to tag along with Megatron.

Megatron scans the room, looking for the companions Starscream does not have.

“I don’t recall inviting both of you,” Starscream says, not rising from his chair. The pose is necessarily casual, though likely Megatron could see right through it. They knew each other for too long for it to be any other way.

“Your invitation was to ‘the captain’,” Megatron replies, still looking around the room.

“There’s two of us,” Rodimus says, glaring at Starscream as if he’s been personally injured in some way. That’s the way most people look at him, of course, but Starscream suspects that this is of a more personal flavor.

“Ah yes, I had forgotten. Could hardly let a war criminal go without _supervision.”_

Megatron winces, and it’s one of the most delicious things Starscream has ever had the pleasure of observing.

“You’re one to talk,” Rodimus says, rallying to Megatron’s defense in a way entirely too reminiscent of Starscream’s past rivals, all thinking that currying Megatron’s favor would be enough to oust him.

“Enough.” Megatron says it softly, but Starscream knows that edge to his voice as well as a favorite song, and he notes with no small amount of disgust the way Rodimus reluctantly assents, casting Starscream a poisonous glance.

Starscream smiles coldly at Rodimus. “Old grudges have no place here. Surely you, of all people, know that by now.”

If Rodimus misses the subtext, Megatron does not, optics settling on Starscream with a familiar wariness. Starscream gazes back, smirking, concealing his annoyance with a smug mask.

“You seem to have done well for yourself,” Megatron says, gesturing the room. It isn’t the most impressive place Starscream could have chosen to meet him, but it is the one from which he could most easily escape, if things went awry. Windows are replaceable.

“Being the Chosen One does have its perks.” The entire city may hate him, but they hate Megatron more, and that fact alone is enough to make Starscream’s spark sing.

Rodimus mutters something Starscream doesn’t catch, but the tone is mocking. Starscream chooses to ignore him, knowing it will rankle the Autobot. Though, he shouldn’t call him that, he supposes, optics catching on the badge on Megatron’s chest, another little unpleasant reminder. There are _two_ Autobots before him, and it’s not even the most unusual thing that has happened since they arrived.

“Tell me, Rodimus, because it’s been a while since last we met—exactly how long has this been going on?”  Starscream presses the tips of his fingers together, unable to keep from grinning as he sees the scowl form on Megatron’s face.

“How long has _what_ been going on?” Rodimus asks, missing the obvious again. Frankly it’s insulting that this is his replacement, but perhaps it’s only the best Megatron can do. Starscream is almost tempted to feel bad for him.

“Starscream,” Megatron says, a warning note in his voice, as if he thinks he can still demand anything of him, least of all good behavior.

It’s easy as plucking harp strings. “How long have you been fragging a former warlord? It does seem to be a new development for you, I wonder if your crew knows? Or perhaps our mutual friend, Optimus Prime—I do believe this would be of interest to him.”

Rodimus bristles, but stills at Megatron’s hand on his shoulder. It’s pathetic, really. Rodimus could at least show a little more spirit.

“What do you want, Starscream?” His voice is level, but Starscream can hear the beginnings of strain. The old Megatron would have had him pinned to the wall by his throat by now, so perhaps Rodimus isn’t entirely overselling it when he says things have changed.

“Want? Oh, nothing particular, yet. Useful information is useful information.” He can’t resist an opportunity to needle Megatron further. “The gossip rags would run themselves into a tizzy, hearing about this.”

Rodimus looks ready to launch himself across the space between them and finish the discussion with fists, but Starscream sees—with a twinge he doesn’t want to acknowledge—Megatron’s hand tighten on Rodimus’ shoulder, and the smaller bot only glares.

How? In the short amount of time that they’ve been gone, how in the _hell_ could this possibly have happened?

“I hope you remember you weren’t sent off to find someone to keep your berth warm,” Starscream sneers. “It would be unfortunate if an affair were to cast doubts on your commitment to—justice or becoming a better person or whatever it was you went off to do.”

“You slimy piece of—” Rodimus starts to snarl.

_“Enough.”_ Megatron’s voice hits a familiar note, the precise moment where he’s started to lose his patience, and Starscream hates— _hates—_ the way he feels that note go through his frame, feels it stir something he wants to forget.

He hates too that he can see the way it affects Rodimus, probably the only Autobot stupid enough to let himself become _infatuated_ with Megatron, as he so clearly is. Had his little traitor of a friend—Deadlock or Drift or whatever he was calling himself these days—run off and left him? Was that what this was? The two of them had just gotten _lonely_ and decided to carry on with each other?

Pathetic.

Megatron’s looking at him, optics burning volcanic, and something in Starscream is sickeningly pleased to see some of that old _want_ still there. Even with his irritating new companion, even after everything, Starscream can still draw that out of him. From the way Rodimus looks like he wants to tear Starscream’s throat out with his bare hands, it seems like he knows it too.

Rodimus shakes off Megatron’s hand and starts across the room toward him. Starscream starts to rise, expecting a fight, and delighted at the prospect of having a reason to put the arrogant little brat in a holding cell for a night or three. ‘Autobot assault on leader of Cybertron’ is a headline with no small amount of punch. Doubtless he could drag Megatron into it somehow, truly make life a nightmare for his former commander.

But Rodimus doesn’t go for the punch. He shoves Starscream back into the chair, and then—in a move that seems too bold even for him—straddles Starscream’s thighs and smashes his mouth against Starscream’s. It’s a graceless maneuver, but he gives Rodimus credit for surprising him for a second time.

Rodimus pulls back just long enough to glower at Megatron, and Starscream almost laughs. This isn’t about him at all. The bot just wants to make Megatron _jealous._

Rodimus isn’t exactly his type, but he’s not about to turn down such a conveniently presented opportunity. Starscream traces his fingers up Rodimus’ side, drawing the Autobot’s attention back to him. “Don’t look at him,” Starscream purrs, tipping Rodimus’ chin up. “Nothing good ever comes of giving him all of your attention, all of your time, all of yourself.” He smirks. “I should know.”

Rodimus answers with a curt “Shut up.” Not exactly much for banter, then.

He anchors his hands on the back of Starscream’s chair, forearms brushing his wings as he kisses Starscream again, less messily this time, and not even flinching at Starscream’s hands traveling along his thighs and over his aft, pulling Rodimus just a little closer. Rodimus moves down to Starscream’s neck, giving him a clear view of Megatron standing motionless, watching them, slowly uncurling the fists clenched at his side.

Starscream has only a moment to be smug, before Megatron smirks. “Whatever your interests in exhibitionism might be, Starscream, the entire city is likely to see or—at the very least— _hear_ everything, unless you’d like to take this somewhere more… discreet?”

Rodimus lurches back, apparently just remembering the large windows behind Starscream. His optics might pop out of his face if they get any wider. He scrambles out of Starscream’s lap at an annoying speed, whatever designs he had on inspiring jealousy in Megatron apparently forgotten for the moment.

“Exhibitionism?” Starscream asks. “An interesting accusation coming from the voyeur.” He eyes Rodimus, wondering just how far the brat is willing to go for a petty jab. “If anyone in this room is an exhibitionist, I’d say that title falls to your new _pet.”_

The flood of embarrassment that washes across Rodimus’ face is one of the most gratifying things that Starscream has seen all day. “I am _not—”_

“Starscream.” Megatron’s voice silences whatever protest Rodimus was about to raise, and it sinks spark-deep into Starscream’s frame, digs in, and Starscream half-snarls as he rises.

He shoves past Rodimus, almost getting close enough to jab a finger at that stupid, _stupid_ Autobot badge on Megatron’s chest, but not quite. “What do you think this is? You think you can come back here, dangle some new toy in front of my face, and you’ll have me dancing on the end of a string again? That isn’t how this _works_.”

He wants him, Primus, he still wants him even though he knows exactly how this ends, knows that wanting Megatron doesn’t benefit him in anyway, and the way things stand now, it’s downright dangerous. Old habits, he supposes.

“You invited me here, Starscream.” He doesn’t look or sound like he’s making a power play, and that bothers Starscream, the thinnest fissure of doubt running through him. The Megatron he knows, the Megatron he remembers _—_ “Why?”

—would never, ever ask Starscream a question like that. Motives were assumed (usually correctly, though Starscream is resentful to admit it) and swiftly punished. They knew each other too well to ask each other _why._

Starscream takes a step back, optics narrowing. “You know why.”

Rodimus, of course, has to open his mouth. “Well I don’t, so maybe somebody could tell me what the hell’s going on—”

Starscream turns on his heel and grabs Rodimus by the chin, dragging his face forward into something that isn’t so much a kiss as a convenient way to shut him up. Rodimus startles and bites Starscream’s lip, which isn’t as unpleasant as it should be.

He expects Rodimus to shove him away, but instead he makes a soft sound against Starscream’s mouth, giving in much too easily. Maybe that’s why Megatron likes him, he finally found someone insatiable enough to match him, the dirty old rust bucket. Never could moderate his vices.

Primus knew there was a time he could have had his pick of over half the Decepticon ranks, and he might well have, had Starscream not been so efficient at dealing with rivals. Someone like Rodimus would never have stood a chance.

He releases Rodimus’ chin, stepping back. “Follow me.”

Rodimus looks very much like he might be having second thoughts about this, but he starts forward without looking back at Megatron, and Megatron only sighs and follows.

Starscream is hardly without discreet ways of getting around. Not that they ever get used much for this purpose—generally when he slips through back corridors it’s to avoid Windblade, or whoever else is proving to be a nuisance lately. Thankfully the journey to his private quarters is short.

The room is soundproofed, Starscream saw to that himself. He likes his privacy.

The door closing behind them, Starscream grabs Rodimus by the arm, pulling him in with a smirk as Rodimus starts to balk. “Don’t look like that, I’m hardly the most dangerous person in this room.” He runs a finger along the line of Rodimus’ jaw. “I think he should stay over there for a little while, while we get to know each other better. Don’t you?”

Rodimus’ gaze flicks in Megatron’s direction for the barest of moments, uncertain. He shrugs, and says, “Sure.”

Starscream casts a smug look in Megatron’s direction, shoving Rodimus at the berth. Whatever Megatron is thinking, it isn’t evident on his face as he settles into a chair, seemingly content to watch. Starscream knows better. This composed show will last for a little while, and then he’ll grow restless, impatient at being denied.

Rodimus sits on the edge of the berth, letting Starscream stand between his knees, hands on his thighs. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?” Starscream says, close enough he’s almost kissing Rodimus, and quiet enough that he’s certain Megatron can’t hear him. “You don’t know anything about playing this game.”

Rodimus is oddly quiet at first, probably distracted by Starscream’s hands on his waist. Starscream puts teeth to his neck and the slight shiver that runs through Rodimus says plenty. Tentatively, Rodimus puts his hands on Starscream, pulling him closer. “Don’t tell me what I don’t know.” This time when he bites Starscream’s bottom lip, it’s on purpose.

Starscream slips a hand under Rodimus’ thigh, pulling his hips closer. “You think you’re the first person to let him have whatever he wants?” It’s been quite a while since he was this close to a bot that wasn’t at least half again his size. There isn’t quite the risk of being trapped or overpowered. A little boring, really.

“Shut up,” Rodimus hisses, legs wrapped around Starscream’s waist. He’s shameless. Starscream might almost enjoy it if he didn’t suspect that the performance was for someone else’s benefit.

He grinds against Rodimus’ panel, moving his head to allow Rodimus to kiss and nip his way up Starscream’s neck. Starscream laughs softly. “You’re a master of words, no wonder he likes you.” Rodimus bites a little harder than necessary, but Starscream won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“You’ve never denied him anything, have you?” Starscream asks, glancing back at Megatron, assessing just how tight he can wind the key. “If you let him keep going like that, he’ll get bored with you.”

Rodimus digs his fingers in at the base of Starscream’s wings. Starscream gets the feeling that it’s supposed to hurt. “Shut. Up.”

“Does that threaten you?” Starscream hooks a finger under a part in Rodimus’ plating, drawing a shudder out of him. “You must be more invested than I thought.” He gives a wicked grin; one he can tell Rodimus hates as soon as he sees it. “Don’t tell me you have feelings for him?”

Rodimus throws himself back on the berth, dragging Starscream with him. He rolls, forcing Starscream onto his back and straddling his waist. Starscream draws his hands back to defend himself, but Rodimus grabs him by the wrists, forcing his arms up over his head. He could free himself if he wanted, but from the way Rodimus is still grinding his hips against him, he thinks that probably isn’t a concern. “Do you _ever_ stop talking?”

“There are ways to shut him up,” Megatron says, the first time he’s spoken since they came to Starscream’s quarters. “You just have to know what they are.”

Starscream turns his head to look at Megatron, squirming under Rodimus. It was a mistake to bring them here, a mistake to involve himself with Megatron yet again—but the weight of those optics that know him so well is too much. “Are you going to participate or just offer your sage input?”

“I was under the impression the two of you wanted to get to know each other better, without me.” Megatron smirks. “It seems like Rodimus has you well taken care of.”

“Yeah?” Rodimus asks. “And who’s gonna take care of me?”

Starscream resists the urge to sneer, but only because if he prods Rodimus any further he might actually get punched. Being roughed up doesn’t necessarily bother Starscream, but he would prefer it didn’t involve breaking a tooth.

Megatron takes his time coming to the berth, cupping Rodimus’ chin in his hand and kissing him. Starscream may have Rodimus sitting on top of him, but he feels as though he’s intruding in his own quarters. He’s ready to level a resentful jab when he feels Megatron’s hand on his shoulder, and its nearness stills him. He’s had that hand wrapped around his throat so many times that it almost feels stranger to be without it.

Megatron lifts Rodimus off of him as easy as a doll, and Starscream lets Megatron drag him up, though not as roughly as he might have in the past. He resents the caution, almost as much as he would resent disregard. “You’re getting soft.”

Megatron looks at him a moment, assessing, and then backhands Starscream with enough strength to make the room spin around him. Starscream only barely steadies himself before falling off the berth. “Is that better?” Megatron asks coolly, settling on the berth with Rodimus on his thigh.

“It’ll do.” Starscream rubs his jaw, holding back a smile. Megatron yanks him up to straddle his leg without giving Starscream quite enough time to get his bearings. Starscream steadies a hand on his chest, and starts to move to kiss Megatron, but Megatron turns his head away, running his tongue up Rodimus’ neck. Rodimus makes an obscene noise, grinding down on the hand Megatron has slipped under his aft and into Rodimus’ now exposed valve.

Didn’t waste any time, did they?

Starscream digs his fingers into Megatron’s shoulders. “It’s considered rude to ignore your host.”

Megatron pulls him nearly flat against his chest, so that when he turns Starscream’s field of vision is filled with blazing crimson. “You’ve never been one for manners.” He’s so close, so overwhelming—

Starscream presses up into a kiss, a hand on the back of Megatron’s neck. He can feel Megatron’s hand on his aft, sliding down to the edge of his panel, where he waits. Starscream finds himself annoyed again at the hesitation, even as the rational part of his mind whispers that this should be preferable to having his panel forcibly opened.

He isn’t looking at Rodimus but he can still hear him—and Starscream thought _he_ was loud. If he was alone with Megatron—Primus forbid the thought—he would drag this out longer, make it more like things used to be, but they aren’t alone, and he is not going to let Rodimus get more out of this than him.

He opens his panel, and Megatron pushes two fingers inside him.

Starscream presses back against the hand, letting out an embarrassingly loud moan. Megatron’s mouth is on his neck and then all too soon it’s gone, his attentions turned momentarily to Rodimus. Starscream has never had to share before, and he can’t say he cares for the experience.

Rodimus meets his gaze, and reaches across Megatron to slide a hand down Starscream’s front to rub over his node. Starscream wants to swat his hand away for the presumption, but instead he presses his own hand over Rodimus’, directing his touch, and soon enough Rodimus picks up on what he wants and—more surprisingly—delivers.

Rodimus slides from Megatron’s leg to settle behind Starscream, chest against his wings, kissing and biting at the back of his neck as Starscream presses against Megatron’s chest, riding his hand, too caught up to be embarrassed by the sounds he’s making. He can tell from the way Rodimus is shifting against his back that he’s grinding against Megatron’s leg.

Rodimus brings his second hand a little higher than the first, stroking place where Starscream’s spike is still hidden. Almost without thinking Starscream releases it, and Rodimus strokes him with his teeth sunk in Starscream’s shoulder.

No longer occupied with Rodimus, Megatron puts his free hand around Starscream’s throat and squeezes. Stars dance behind Starscream’s optics, overwhelmed with the sudden focus on him, the hands and mouths on his frame and oh— _oh—_

His overload knocks his optics offline for a moment, back arched and vocalizer straining against the hand crushed around his neck. Neither Megatron nor Rodimus stops what they’re doing as Starscream shakes and shudders, lubricant leaking from between his thighs and his transfluid smeared across Megatron’s abdomen.

Abruptly too sensitive he smacks Rodimus’ hands away, annoyed that he allowed himself to get carried away so quickly. Megatron releases his throat and pulls his hand away, and Starscream reels in the sudden absence of touch, Rodimus moving out from behind him to stand between Megatron’s thighs, clearly expecting something. Trying to catch his breath, Starscream watches in mixed interest and horror as Megatron takes the fingers that were just in his valve, still slick with his lubricant, and shoves them into Rodimus’ mouth.

Rodimus hums around the fingers, gazing back at Megatron with a look that would make most self-respecting bots abashed.

Megatron pulls his fingers from Rodimus’ mouth and, more disgusting, Rodimus tries to follow them, seeming disappointed at their loss. Megatron’s voice, when he speaks, is rough, betraying the arousal otherwise only evident in his gaze. “Get on your knees.”

Starscream almost bends to the order himself, having heard and obeyed it more times than he would ever admit to, but Megatron holds him where he is as Rodimus hits the floor with a speed that must hurt, though he doesn’t flinch at all, hands on Megatron’s thighs and waiting, practically shivering with need.

Megatron strokes Rodimus’ lip with a thumb, pausing to admire his face in a way Starscream vividly remembers from the point of view of the admired. He bit that thumb, more often than not, but the thought doesn’t appear to occur to Rodimus, who only parts his lips, leaning closer, probably a moment away from simply begging for the pleasure of taking Megatron’s spike.

Starscream wishes he weren’t entranced, watching Rodimus run his tongue up Megatron’s spike, watching the way Rodimus stares up at him in search of approval, and Megatron’s hand on Rodimus’ head, guiding and encouraging.

Megatron is kissing Starscream’s neck again, and Starscream can’t help how hungry he is for that kiss again, how badly he needs it. Megatron keeps him pulled close, his other hand on Rodimus’ head. Starscream can feel Rodimus’ cheek rubbing against his thigh as he moves, somehow still managing to make an absurd amount of noise.

“He’s going to choke himself to death,” Starscream says, shifting to glance down at Rodimus again.

Rodimus doesn’t seem terribly bothered by the idea.

Still, Megatron pulls Rodimus back up into his lap, and seems to consider the both of them for a moment, ignoring Rodimus’ disappointed whine. Starscream feels ill at ease the moment the first hints of a smirk form on Megatron’s face. “Pity,” he says, “two of you and I only have the one spike.”

Starscream could scratch his face off at that very moment. He is not going to compete with Rodimus for the privilege of being fragged. He shifts, glancing at Rodimus with a smirk of his own. “Does your _co-captain_ know that tongue of yours is useful for more than stirring speeches?”

Rodimus nearly jumps to his feet, optics brightening. “Oh, Megatron, please—”

Starscream reaches over, putting a hand over Rodimus’ mouth. “What he means,” Starscream says, “is you take care of him, and I’ll take care of myself.” He drops his hand down to stroke Megatron’s spike, smiling. “Maybe you’ll even get something out of it.”

Megatron looks amused at that, dumping Rodimus out of his lap and pulling Starscream across his hips as he shifts onto the berth. His spike teases at Starscream’s valve, but Starscream is careful to keep just out of reach, while Rodimus is pulling Megatron back by his shoulders. It’s strange, seeing Megatron yield to anything. Strange and yet immensely satisfying, even if he has to share the moment with Rodimus, who’s too busy swinging a leg over Megatron’s head to appreciate anything beyond his own wants.

Starscream hovers a moment longer, watching Megatron pull Rodimus back by the hips. Rodimus lets out another one of those absurd moans, holding himself up with hands splayed on Megatron’s middle, face contorting as he rides back on Megatron’s face. Starscream leans forward, catching Rodimus by the chin and letting Rodimus moan into his mouth, absurd and needy and so, so delicious for it.

He can feel Megatron shifting impatiently beneath him, and Starscream moves out of reach again, scraping teeth over Rodimus’ neck, savoring the tremble that goes through the Autobot, the way Rodimus steadies himself with a hand on Starscream’s shoulder, babbling an incoherent stream of curses and pleas.

Starscream reaches back to grasp Megatron’s spike, lining himself up and, just when he’s right where he wants to be, slamming his hips back against Megatron. Megatron thrusts up against him and Starscream groans, knowing he took it too fast and not caring, just happy to be full again, knees aching against the berth and the freedom to set his own pace, heat rising through his frame.

Rodimus gets up only as long as it takes to turn around, holding on to the back of the berth as he groans and curses, a hand anchored on Megatron’s helm. When he overloads Rodimus shouts, frame twisting except where Megatron is still holding him secure at the hips, starting out as tension and dissolving into shudder. The sight builds a familiar tension in Starscream, but it isn’t enough to push him over.

Meek as a kitten Rodimus slides off to one side, and before Starscream has time to react Megatron is up, a hand around his throat. Starscream can’t help the gasp that slips past his lips, or the way his optics widen. Megatron lets him keep up his pace, face close enough that again his optics are all Starscream can see. Megatron speaks so softly that it takes Starscream a moment to understand.

“This is the last time.”

Megatron’s hand tightens until something fizzles in the back of Starscream’s throat. He makes a strangled sound as he overloads, a shaking mess in Megatron’s lap. He collapses against Megatron’s chest, trying to get his bearings, only half-aware that Megatron himself hasn’t overloaded yet.

Megatron sets him aside gently, in a way that Starscream would protest if his vocalizer were currently functioning. Almost immediately Rodimus is there to take his place, looking far too happy with the way that things have turned out. Rodimus sits with his back to Megatron, somehow still having the energy to bounce on his spike and give a litany of praises to its feeling and size.

As soon as he can get his legs under him, Starscream swings off the berth and makes a hasty exit for the washroom. He has no reason to linger while Rodimus wails about how much he needs Megatron’s spike. The sooner this is over, the better.

Scrubbing himself clean under the hot spray, Starscream pauses at the dull ache around his throat.

The last time.

He supposes there hadn’t technically been a last time, before. Not a symbolic one, anyway, as this one was clearly meant to be.

A last time with his replacement already at hand. Had he planned it this way? No—Megatron wasn’t petty enough for that, and Rodimus lacked the disposition to be too devious. A fluke, then, and one he had encouraged and allowed.

If he had wished for a closing moment, then this is it.

He takes his time in the washroom, and, mercifully, by the time he’s dried he can’t hear Rodimus from the other room. Emerging, he finds the two of them sitting next to each other on the berth, Megatron’s head bent to listen to something Rodimus is saying, the smaller bot’s hand on his arm. Starscream looks away. “You should clean up. I’m sure people will be looking for you, soon.”

He busies himself with a pile of datapads that don’t contain anything of interest, but give him something to do with his hands while Rodimus slips off to wash. The silence from where Megatron sits behind him is suffocating.

“I’d try to make some sense of your _type,”_ Starscream says, “but I have the feeling I’d only end up offended.”

He can hear Megatron shifting behind him. “I didn’t bring him to… upset you.”

“‘Upset’ is a cute word, not one I’m used to hearing from you. Not quite as dramatic as your usual vocabulary.” Starscream orders and reorders the datapads, pausing to flip through their contents as if he even cares or sees the text. “Anyone could see that Rodimus thought I was inviting you here to seduce you.” He wishes it sounded more ludicrous than it does. “You certainly seem to get along well.” Then, with distaste, “He adores you.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? State the obvious?” Starscream’s patience is wearing thin.

_“Remind me.”_ Megatron sounds tired. He rises, and heads for the washroom door.

Starscream’s voice rises to a shrill pitch. “If you frag him in my washroom—”

“I’m only going to tell him to hurry up.” Megatron glances at Starscream. “I don’t intend to linger.”

No. No, of course not. Starscream looks away, relieved. There’s a comm from Windblade that he has to deal with—an inquiry as to his whereabouts and an expression of “concern” about his absence as well as that of Megatron and Rodimus. He sends back a sharp response about his right to private conversation, and an assurance that she can soon deal with them herself, if she likes. Convenient, actually, that she would put her nose where it doesn’t belong at the right moment. He can foist his two guests on her and not encounter them again until they depart. 

Starscream supposes with some resentment that he’ll be expected to see them off, but at least it will mean they’re leaving.

Rodimus is in a disgustingly good mood when he emerges.  Starscream does his best to ignore him, not willing to leave the pair of them alone in his quarters for any length of time. He snaps at Rodimus not to touch anything, to which Rodimus, perched on the end of the berth, answers, “Little late for that.”

He shepherds them out as quickly as he can when Megatron is finished, regretting every decision he’s made since he woke up that morning. He deposits them in Windblade’s care and goes for the balcony, restless and knowing that if he has to look at that ship for a moment longer than necessary he’ll lose his mind.

More than he’s already lost, at least.

#

It takes some doing, to beg off Windblade’s offers of hospitality to return to the Lost Light. Megatron feels uneasy being anywhere else, too exposed, and the encounter with Starscream has only worsened the feeling.

Rodimus, really, is the only one who seems happier than he was at the start, for reasons Megatron can’t entirely fathom. He isn’t going to question it too much, a pleased Rodimus is always better than a sulking one.

The shadow that passes over them as Starscream takes flight is barely more than a flicker, and Megatron pauses, following the slim silhouette of the seeker across the pale sky.

There are still days when Starscream’s absence is strange to him. So many years together, it isn’t surprising that bringing it to a close would feel… off.

Rodimus raps a knuckle against his shoulder, getting his attention. “Forget where we were going?” He smiles. “I bet you we could disappear for another hour without anybody noticing.”

“I’m not sure I share your confidence.” He gives Rodimus a slight smile. “You were… full of surprises today.”

Rodimus seems pleased to hear that. “Not boring?”

“Was that a concern?”

Rodimus waves it off, starting toward the ship again. “Come on, _Captain,_ we have some catching up to do.”

It’s only been three days, but Megatron isn’t about to remind Rodimus of that fact. “An hour, you said?”

“Yeah, but not if you don’t hurry up, old man.”


End file.
